Slaughtering Sacred Cows: Part 2

The last chapter of Ægir’s Bride is causing quite a controversy. Because I am slaughtering some sacred cows of Western civilization and BDSM. Three of them at once in fact: 1) Madonna/Whore Complex 2) Silver Sexuality and 3) SSC (Safe/Sane/Consensual).

So today is the second in that series…Silver Sexuality…


In less than a month, I hit the Big 5-0. That’s right fifty. Hell, I remember just yesterday I thought my mom was old at thirty-five. But thirty-five came and went for me…it was the year of my divorce actually. I went wild and experienced all the things that I had fantasized during fourteen years of a bad marriage and a decade of sexual repression as a Pentecostal preacher’s wife. I felt anything but old then. Forty, the big 4-0, came and went with the birth of my youngest child. And once more, I felt anything but old. After all, bus drivers still thought me and my teenage daughter were sisters.

Hell, I celebrated my 48th…when my thirty-one year old Dom gave me a paddle that cost almost £200 (that’s $300 folks…for a fucking paddle!). He and my friends proceeded to use it on my bottom…all forty-eight plus one to grow on. I wore the darkest bruises and sat very gently for days. Oh, I was one of the younger members of that BDSM club with plenty of people well into their sixties and seventies. And no more flack about Olaf making Petrine kneel at sixty-three, I have seen a woman that age, who weighed twice what Petrine did and had health problems, kneel. It took three big men to help her up. But she was smiling when they got her up. Kneeling is what subs NEED…no matter their age.

But the Big 5-0? Yes, I can feel changes in my body…just as Petrine talks about. I too now have to wear glasses for writing and sewing. Unlike Petrine, I have not worked up the courage to wear my grey hair with pride. I spend time and money coloring it every time the roots shine through. And yes, the broken tailbone that happened almost thirty years ago is bothering me loads more.

BUT I am NOT old. I refuse to be. All this crap about…growing old gracefully…is for someone else. I prefer to be a wild child like Madonna, Cher and Tina Turner. And I get away with it too. A few months ago I was walking down the street. When a WOMAN stopped me…to tell me how great my legs looked in my mini-skirt. As I threaten my children as long as those legs hold up, I am wearing the damned things too. At fifty, I can still pass for a woman a decade earlier…on occasions I have even been told late thirties.

My recipe for the fountain of youth…playing tag with PanKwake and kinky, hot sex (more often than not with younger men).

The thing is that as baby boomers age, as we live longer and longer, as a society we must change how we see ageing itself. There was a time…not that long ago…when life expectancy was…well, I would be dead already. When ‘retirement’ was introduced as a concept, sixty was thought to be old. But now most people (at least those who have taken care of their bodies) will have close to twenty years…a quarter of a century…or more of life left in them. Life that can and should be lived and not wasted sitting on the front porch reminiscing about the ‘good ole’ days.’ Not fishing. Not sewing.

LIVING. And hell, yes, loving too. Yes, there may be a bit of biology with both men and women as they age. But between a good attitude and those magic little blue pills that is becoming less relevant all the time. Besides…there is more than one way to skin a kitty (eat a pussy…finger it…oh, go back and read the 7 Types of Female Orgasms if you need a refresher already).

Remember I told you about holding a BS in Health Education with a specialty in HIV/Sexual Health? I worked at the university in Health Education. I remember a quiz that we gave the students about myths about HIV. Here is one of the question:

What is the fastest growing at-risk populations for HIV/AIDS?

a) Gay men

b) College students

c) Lesbians

d) Women over 50

The answer (at that time anyway) was D…women over 50. Why? Because these women were remaining sexually active. But because 1) they were no longer fertile and 2) they were the first pill generation, they were unfamiliar with condoms. Hopefully, education has lowered their risks…but not their enjoyment of an active sex life after 50.

These days, of course, women have options the same as their male counter parts…MILFs and even GILFs…can ‘pull’ men half their age. And not just if your name is Madonna or Demi Moore either. Average or even plus-sized women like me have no problem ‘catching’ lovers fifteen or even twenty years their junior. Hell, even the once insurmountable wall of their biological clocks are falling…no matter what your opinion…the truth is that it is now possible for women my age…or even in their sixties…to give birth.

And men? Erectile dysfunction? No doubt it still happens…but it happens to younger men too. Slowing down, lower sex drive? Maybe…but sometimes quality is more important than quantity. And like I said…there are other ways…even if little blue pills don’t work…for them to keep their women smiling.

I saw this on my FaceBook about a couple celebrating their 82nd wedding anniversary. I could not find it again in my friends’ feed when I needed it for you so I googled it. Turns out they are NOT the only ones, folks. Now are they burning up the sheets at the nursing home? Truth…I don’t know…and neither do you. But I like to hope their is still some fire under those white chimneys…embers at least.

Because as this girl says…when I can no longer XXXX…take my ass out back and put me down like a dawg.

Better at 60 than 20...
Better at 60 than 20…

I gave you all a break in today’s chapter of Ægir’s Bride. I faded to black with Olaf’s hands between Petrine’s thighs and his mouth wrapped around her nipple. I will NOT always be so…circumspect. Because this is another sacred cow that just plain needs slaughtering…. In case you have not noticed the only one of my character sketches with a famous person is Olaf. When I googled images of older men…Richard Gere jumped off the page at me. Damn, the man is hotter in his sixties than he was his twenties. And George Clooney ain’t far behind the man. Silver foxes like that can beat my younger lovers any day. Of course, I wouldn’t kick Dame Helen Mirren out of my bed either.

So I will leave you all with Olaf’s words to Petrine when she said she is not ready to be old… Thank you, Conway Twitty…you sing it so much nicer than Olaf does.

When a whole lot of Decembers are showing in your face

Your auburn hair has faded and silver takes its place,

You’ll still be just as lovely and I’ll still be around

And if I can (written well before those little blue pills, folks) I know I’ll still want to lay you down.

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